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Ode to the P-38 (poem)
By Dayl Wise
[Printer-Friendly Version]
No, not the P-38 Lightning - Air Craft,
nor German semi-automatic pistol.
You're a field ration can opener,
Officially:
Opener "comma",
Can "comma",
Hand "comma",
Folding "comma",
Type I.
You're were small and light to carry,
Hinged, nickel-plated, hardened steel,
cheap, petite, 1-1/2 inches long.
You adorned my dog tag chain,
like a ring, my steady.
Around the block a few times,
WWII, Korea. With me...Vietnam.
Environmentally friendly,
light weight,
you're human-powered,
no batteries for you.
Opened C-rations, bottles,
stripped wire, cleaned boots,
fingernails, a great marking tool.
Once scaled a fish. Do you remember?
We parted that fall night, 24th Evac Hospital,
my last vision of you, around my neck.
Resting on my dog tags,
never saw you again.
I think of you often my love,
but we both knew it was temporary.
Heard about your retirement,
with the adoption of MRE's.
Thank you for everything,
for penetrating all those C-Rats.
Never been able to bring myself
to buy an electric can opener.
— Dayl Wise
Notes:
MRE's: Meals Ready-to-Eat, individual field ration in lightweight packaging.
C-Rats: Nickname for C-rations containing a canned entrée, three cans containing cheese, crackers, candy, a dessert and cigarettes.
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